Self Made Highs, Here Am I

Finally went to the gym for the first time in almost a year.

I forgot how much I loved it.
Forgot how much I loved moving. Period.
Physical and not, obviously. (But that isn't at all surprising since I love change and become fitful when things become too routine- the metaphor of my life has all become just a little too literal for my tastes, lol but at least it's amusing.)

Back to the objective at hand.
I Forgot how it transformed every single cell and molecule in my body.
Forgot the lasting effects that stay long after.
I've been stationary, stunted for so long. Mind. Body. Soul. Stopped. Stuck.
A body in motion tends to stay in motion.

(My brain even feels stupid, like I've devolved. I hate it. My thinking feels like it's slowed down immensely. I need to do something about that.)

Strange how you forget the things you wish to remember; yet, you can never forget the things you wish to forget.

Also strange that I love pushing myself and setting my own limits, but when anyone else does it, I shut down, completely and irrationally. It's like a reset button gets hit and I retreat back into the dark place and thus have to repeat the process, my "process" all over again. Whatever that is. We can't ever describe it. The problem is that it's a vicious and self-destructing, self-consuming cycle that is doomed to nothing but failure.

But the gym was good.
It was so good, I didn't want to leave.
I think the feeling of being in control of some aspect of my life subconsciously plays a big factor in all of this.
I didn't want to stop physically moving.
Today's the first time I've felt naturally better in a long time.
I don't know if it was the pouring rain I love so much, or that my body was finally giving me a sense of temporary relief.
It literally felt like the weight was being lifted, ever so slightly.

That's the bad thing about being one of us.
We live in fragments that can be taken away in seconds. Taken away to either the dark place or the opened place. I'm usually in the former. But today it felt like I could breathe.

The difference is astronomical. It never ceases to astonish and render me dumbfounded by the juxtaposition.

I used to say we live in moments, two kinds, the bad and the not so bad.
I don't even think I live in moments anymore.
I exist in a state of heaviness. But simultaneously in perpetual limbo. Waiting, always, for the heft to be lightened. And whenever it is lightened, I fear the moment it becomes swayed and blown to the other place I have come to call my internal home.

My mind wanders, every thought is connected like branches on a tree or veins and nerves in the bloodstream. So how can you expect my thoughts not to digress. Thinking spurns creativity. People have stopped thinking for themselves so us kindred folk have been pushed into the group of odd outcasts, but I rather prefer it that way.

I know the high has now faded. I can always gauge my feelings through what I type down.
But point is, I plan on working out every day like before I stopped.

Forgive whatever I type, I doubt any if this can be called/considered 'writing', hence why I haven't called it such in this entry. The more I type the more my words make no sense. So alas, I cease.

But huzzah for today's small triumphs. We'll all do better and try again tomorrow.

I guess we're all just trying to chase that high and ride as long as we can until we can trigger/trick it to come back again.

Boy am I going to be a bit sore when I wake up.